


The Sunshine of Life

by Crollalanza



Series: The Captain and his Vice [20]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, M/M, Sexual Content, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-11 12:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3327194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve been together for thirteen years, both have good jobs and a decent life in Tokyo, but one thing is missing. Travelling to San Francisco with their friend Michimiya Yui, Daichi and Suga hope their dream of starting a family will come true. </p><p>But it seems science cannot solve everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Takes Three

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a short birthday fic for Noemi (thewindraiser) who is the Suga Queen and a rampant supporter of Daisuga. 
> 
> And then it spiralled.
> 
> The quotation at the beginning of the story and the inspiration for the title came from Thomas Jefferson.

_~Friendship is precious, not only in the shade, but in the sunshine of life.~_

  
Even by California standards, it was a warm spring day. San Francisco, Daichi had been told, suffered from ‘bi-polar weather’, which meant packing for every eventuality had been a necessity for Suga and he’d not listened to Daichi’s suggestion that they pack light and buy there.

“We need to save money, Dai, not spend more,” he’d explained, excited at the time.

But now, sitting under the parasol of the street cafe, mindlessly stirring cream into coffee, Daichi wondered how he could feel so cold inside when the sun was beating down on them.

“There she is,” Suga said quietly, and got to his feet.

Daichi leapt up, determined not to look reproachful. Not that he reproached her in any way at all, but he knew her too well, and realised that like Suga, she was fretting.

“Sorry.”

Michimiya’s first word of greeting stabbed him in the gut. She stood there, hands in the pockets of her linen jacket, her eyes red, and refused the chair Suga pulled out for her.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said.

“Sit with us,” Daichi said, and plucked her sleeve. “Micchan, it’s not your fault.”

“It was bad luck,” Suga murmured, his voice hitching.

“Sorry,” she repeated, but this time took the proffered chair. “And I’m sorry I skipped out on you guys, but I needed time and I thought you could use it too.” She sniffed. “Guess I can have a coffee now, right?”

“Caffè Americano, I’ll get it,” Daichi said, and ruffling her hair, he walked inside the cafe.

In line, he watched out the window. Suga, being Suga, was so much better at all this that he was, and had already taken Michimiya’s hand. And it struck him right then that Suga, though broken in bits, would always reach out to comfort someone else.

It was all so very unfair.

 

After coffee, and poppy seed muffins, (Suga’s favourite) the three of them started the slow amble towards the pier. Michimiya walked slightly behind and to the side, as if unsure what her place was now, but after going three steps, Daichi waited and then linked his arm into hers. A fraction of a second later, Suga copied him, and the three wandered along the promenade, not speaking as the sea breeze whipped at their hair. Daichi looked down at her, touched more than he could have imagined because a tear was glistening on her lashes, and although it could have been caused by the wind, he didn’t think it was.

“It’s okay, Micchan,” he murmured.

“No.” She shook her head, and with a sob buried her head in his chest. “It’s not.”

Over her head, his eyes met Suga’s and something twisted inside because of the sadness seeping out of him. They’d always known it was a long shot. They’d known this was their only chance. All three should have been prepared. But something about their lives, something about grabbing every opportunity because that was the way to success and happiness, had convinced Daichi that this would work.  And looking at Suga, he knew he felt the same and now the disappointment – no, the utter heartrending despair – was equally as deep.

“There was only an outside chance it would work, Yui,” Suga murmured. He patted her back, then, clearly thinking this was inadequate, embraced her, too.

“Get off me, the pair of you,” she whispered, sniffing. “It should be me doing the comforting, not the other way around.”

 

They’d rented an apartment near Fisherman’s Wharf. With one bedroom, it was small but had been affordable for their purpose. Letting Michimiya have the bed, Suga and Daichi had crashed out every night on sofa cushions on the floor, only taking the bedroom when she’d left.  Now she was back, Daichi guessed they’d take the sofa again; it would look like they blamed her otherwise.  As soon as they walked through the door, Suga walked to the kitchen reaching for the kettle and teabags.

“How are you?” Michimiya asked Daichi, sitting next to him on the sofa.

“Um, not sure.” He swallowed. “I’m more upset for Suga, I think.”

She laughed but not with amusement, and there was a sadness in her voice as she linked her hand in his. “That’s what he says about you,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault, Mich,” he whispered, and squeezed her fingers. “Some things just don’t work however much you want them to.”

“Well, it should have done!” she snapped, but he knew she wasn’t angry with him, more that the situation and the sudden hormonal drop were making her testy and temperamental. “If ever a couple deserved this, it’s you two.”

“Thanks.” He sighed. “We gave it our best shot.”

“Our only shot,” Suga said from the doorway. He placed the tray of tea in front of them. “No backup.”

“Sor-”

“DON’T!” they both said to her.

Then Suga flopped down on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. “Fuck this,” he muttered. “Let’s get drunk.”

***

“First time I met Daichi... uhm ...” Michimiya giggled, and flipped her hair off her face. “I don’t remember. Must have been at Junior High.”

“It was. You ran into me. Like literally,” Daichi replied. “She sent me flying, Sug.”

“Oh, yes, I remember. You were a little weed then, Sawamura,” she said, and reaching across she squeezed his bicep. “You certainly grew.”

“I was taller than him when we first started Karasuno,” Suga mused, and leaning across Daichi, refilled her glass. “I was nearly the same height as Asahi.”

“Yeah, you used to mock me,” Daichi replied and started to laugh. “Don’t think I’ll ever forget the horror on your face when you realised I was taller.”

“That’s when he bought me the shrimp shirt,” Suga explained, scowling. “Could _not_ stop rubbing it in my face. Still can’t.” He finished his wine and waited for Daichi to fill his glass. “He still buys me shrimp things for my birthday. It was a baseball cap last year.”

Michimiya sipped her wine and eyed him thoughtfully. “Bet you’ve kept them all, haven’t you? I bet you guys have kept every gift you ever gave each other.” Her breath caught in her throat. “It’s so unf -”

“Life’s unfair,” Daichi interrupted. “What will be will be, and all that shit.”

“And there’s no chance you can try again?” she asked, and sat up a little. “Only, I’m still here and willing. You do know that, guys? I don’t have to get back to Tokyo for anything pressing.”

There was a pause as Daichi tried to figure out what to say, but in the end, it was Suga who answered.

“We don’t have any more money, Yui. Coming to the States for IVF was literally our only chance. If we could have done this in Japan, then we would have done but ...”

“Hell, we’d have adopted if we could have, or fostered,” Daichi said bitterly. “There are so many kids that need a good home, that need love, but unless we emigrate, there’s no way that’s an option for us.”

“Emigrate?”  She gulped. “You’d really leave Japan.”

Suga slumped back onto the sofa, resting his head on Daichi’s shoulder. “We looked at it, but Dai would need a company transfer and ... well ... they’re not exactly crying out for copy writers in America.”

Heaving a breath, Michimiya gulped down the rest of her wine, and shifted a little. “So ... um ... what you need is a Plan B.”

“We told you, there is no back up,” Daichi said wearily. “Our only option is to have a child that genetically is ours – or rather is one of ours. That’s why IVF here in the States was the best chance we had.”

“As long as we paid, they weren’t going to question or judge,” Suga replied.

“Uh... what if there was another way,” she muttered.

“There isn’t,” Daichi said abruptly.

“We’ve used all our money,” explained Suga. “You know that.”

“Um ... but ...” Michimiya cleared her throat. “You want – or rather need a child that is genetically yours, yes?” They both nodded. “And you need a female – me – to carry the child.”

“Yeah, and we appreciate, like really appreciate what you’ve done for us, Mich.”

She took Daichi’s hand in hers, and then reached for Suga’s, drawing them both to her lips. “Then why don’t we try the old fashioned way, guys?”

***

 

Suga didn’t remember his exact response to Yui’s suggestion. Panic, maybe, although he wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t think he could have sex with her, or whether it was because he was scared Daichi wanted to. He stared at Daichi, but his face remained impassive, and then he’d shaken his head.

“Why not?” she queried. “I’m not _that_ repulsive, am I?”

“No, no, not at all, but ... Micchan, we c-can’t,” he stuttered, pulling his hand away.  “I’ve never ... and Suga’s ... We’ve only ever ... uh ... been with each other.”

“That’s very sweet,” she said. “You’re rock solid, and that’s why I agreed to help.” Licking her lips nervously, she edged a little closer, and flicked her attention to Suga. “It has to be better than jacking off to porn in a clinic, doesn’t it?”

“Mich-”

“What?” she asked, smiling up at Daichi. “I said I’d help.”

“Because ... ” He groaned. “We can’t do this.”

“Why? Because you’ve never slept with anyone else?” she waved her hand. “It’s not like you’re cheating, is it?”

“Not just that. It’s because ...” Daichi faltered, and turning his head slightly, he caught Suga’s eyes

Suga stared back at him. He didn’t know if it was the drink, but after the darkness of heartbreak, Yui’s suggestion had flared warm inside of him. He shook his head. It was ridiculous and ... “We used donor eggs for a reason -”

“That’s your objection!” she exclaimed and sat up straight, her eyes wide, her back rigid. “What, you’re scared I’ll muddy your fantastic gene pool? What donor did you choose, eh? Miss America?”

Close enough, Suga thought, remembering the hours they’d poured over the database, picking out their ideal. It had been fun imagining this perfect child the three of them would produce. Or four with Yui involved.  But that wasn’t it.

“There’s nothing wrong with your genes, Micchan,” Daichi murmured. He sounded regretful, but after another glug of wine, he continued, “We thought it would be easier for you if there wasn’t a biological connection.”

She punched him, then punched Suga. Both rubbed their arms.

“Idiots!” she scathed. “I already told you a thousand times that I’m doing this for you. I don’t want to be a mom. I’ll be the best auntie a kid could have, okay. That’s it.” Refusing the top up when Suga offered, she stared at them both. “What do you say? It has to be worth a shot, doesn’t it?”

 

None of them, despite the wine consumed, were actually drunk. A bit tipsy, perhaps, which made them reckless, uncaring, but all three were capable of coherent thought, and looking at both Daichi and Yui, Suga’s heart leapt. Maybe, just maybe, this was the way for them, and the ache in his heart started to ease a little.

“But ...” He screwed up his eyes. “I can’t do this. Yui-chan, it’s not ...”

“Right?” she queried. “No, it’s not right that you can’t have kids because you’d be the best parents in the world.”

Suga fiddled with his hair. “I don’t mean that. I mean, I’m not sure I can ... I’m ... um ... I’ve never –“ He squeezed Daichi’s arm. “You go. You ... um ... do it.”

“Me? No! Uh ... I mean -”

“Wow, thanks, guys!” Michimiya stood, hands on hips, then she nudged Daichi with her foot. “Come on.”

“What, now?”

“Before we think too much about it,” she said.

“No!” he yelped.

“I’ll ... um ... go out,” Suga said, getting to his feet. “It’ll make things easier.”

“No you bloody won’t!” Daichi snapped and grabbed his arm. “If this is happening, then you’re a part of it.”

Michimiya smiled, and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re not saying no, then?”

He took a breath, then turning his back on Michimiya, took hold of Suga by his shoulders, pulling him back to the sofa. “We need to talk this through.”

“Do we?” Suga whispered. “We’ve talked through everything, Dai, and look where it’s got us. Maybe ...” He cleared his throat, and very gently pressed his lips on Daichi’s. “Love you.”

“I know.”

Michimiya waved a hand between them. “Shall I go out?”

They both faced her, Suga interlocked his fingers with Daichi’s then held out his other hand. “No, I will.”

***

 

He pounded the sidewalk for a while, desperate not to think, but finding his thoughts would not stop sliding back to the apartment, to Daichi and Yui, together in every possible sense as he mindlessly paced the streets. He closed his eyes, helpless as an image of Daichi in the full throes of passion flooded his mind. 

It would be worth it, he’d told himself as he’d walked out. Worth it if it worked, if Yui became pregnant, and they could legitimately raise a child.

But it was long odds again, and at the back of his mind, what plagued him was not that it wouldn’t work, but that Daichi would realise things about himself, and the past thirteen years would come to nothing.

‘Micchan’, he called her. A term of affection. They’d been friends for so long. She got him. And Daichi understood her ebbs and flows. He’d suggested her when they’d started this whole process, saying that it would be better than using a surrogate that neither knew.

But what if ...

What if this whole thing was a ... Gulping he staggered towards a wall, taking in breaths to calm himself before the panic flared again.

_This is dumb. He loves me. If he wanted anything else, he’d have –_

“Suga! Suuu-gaaaa!”

Twisting around, he heard, before he saw, the footsteps thudding towards him. It was Daichi, running full pelt, only slowing when he was within arms’ reach.

“Is it safe to come back?” Suga asked, hoping he sounded neutral.

“It’s over. Finished. I ...” Daichi stepped closer and raised his fingers to Suga’s cheek.

“Uh ... okay.” He frowned. “That was ... um ... quick.”

Daichi laughed, a little sadly, a touch bitter. “I couldn’t go through with it. I’m _so_ sorry.”

Flinging his arms around him, ignoring the whoops from the passersby, Suga held Daichi close, and now the tears spilling from his eyes weren’t from sadness but relief.

“I know it’s not, that you were happy about it, and Mich thinks I’m being dumb, but it did feel like cheating, and sorry because I’ve blown it. I’ve blown our last chance, and now I ... Hell, Suga, just punch me or something.”

“Can’t,” he muttered, his voice thick and incomprehensible. “Love you too much.”

 

Picking up another bottle of wine, and a large pizza (Michimiya’s favourite with extra anchovies and pepperoni) they wandered back to the apartment, both fixing suitably sheepish expressions on their faces as they prepared to face her.

“Is she going to be mad?”

“Um, she’ll probably punch me,” Daichi said, placing Suga in front of him. “Maybe hand her the pizza and open the wine while I hide in the bathroom.”

“I can hear you, you know!” Michimiya yelled and opened the door. She glared at the pair of them, then gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re both idiots!”

“Hey, what did I do?” Suga demanded.

“Left this dumbass alone,” she replied, and snatched the pizza from him.  Now dressed in sweatpants and a vest top, she stalked into the lounge and sat on a beanbag.

“Not bothering with plates, then?” Daichi murmured.

“I heard that, too,” she replied as she picked up the TV remote. “Plates only get dirty.” Turning her head to the side, she winked up at them both. “See, I’d be a lousy mom. You two, however, would be perfect.”

“Yeah well, we’ll survive,” Suga said. Joining her on the floor, he helped himself to a slice of pizza.

“I know you will. But ... it doesn’t change the fact that you would be amazing parents, and I can’t believe that stubbornness, or some idiotic morality, is stopping you getting what you want.”

“Idiotic morality!” Suga exclaimed.

“Stubbornness!”  Daichi chimed at the same time.

She scowled. “Sawamura, you’re the most stubborn boy I’ve ever met. You’re mad because your first plan didn’t work. And, Suga-chan, you’re an idiot. Do you honestly think he wants to be with anyone other than you?” She held up her hand, stopping them from speaking before they’d even formed the words. Her voice softened. “I’m offering you another way, and you know that.”

 

The three of them lying in bed together wasn’t as odd as Daichi had thought it would be. Of course, they were clothed, which helped, and if he thought of it at a slightly skewed angle, it was only a different version of a sleepover. He just hadn’t had a sleepover with a girl since he was seven.

“Lights off?” she suggested.

“Yes, good idea,” Suga mumbled, and reaching across he flicked the switch on his side.

The room wasn’t exactly plummeted into darkness, as the waterside lights flashed intermittently through the curtains, but expressions were indiscernible and bodies were merely forms and if Daichi didn’t think too much about it, they were just ‘bodies’.

“I can hear your brain clunking, Sawamura,” Michimiya muttered. And then she giggled.

“What’s so funny?” whispered Suga.

“Fourteen years ago, half my Volleyball team would have killed to be where I am now,” she whispered back, then she coughed. “Why am I being quiet? It’s not like we have to keep the noise down. No one’s going to discover us, or make a big deal out of it, or-”

_She’s babbling,_ Daichi thought, _not as cool about this as she likes to think._ Breathing in, he slowly placed his hand on her waist, and kissed her shoulder. “Relax.”

“I would,” she snapped, “but I’m more used to guys actually wanting to be with me. Also, it’s kind of ... insulting the way you’re both desperate to not be turned on.”

“We’re gay, what do you expect?” Daichi protested.

“Use your imagination then,” she said, sounding waspish. “Suga?”

“Mmm?”

“May I kiss you?”

“Uh ... okay.”

“Wow, this is harder than pulling teeth,” she muttered, but shifted onto her side.

For a few seconds the only sound Daichi could hear was two indrawn breaths and then nothing.

 “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she murmured.

“No, that was ...” Suga chuckled. “Different. You have very soft skin.”

“Next time I promise not to shave,” she said, and giggling, she turned back to Daichi. “Come here.”

And then she’d slithered half on top of him, her breasts through her vest top pressing onto his chest as she lowered her mouth to his and began to kiss him.

He hadn’t kissed a girl for years. Not since he was sixteen and, as Michimiya had put it at the time, working his way through her volleyball team. Two girls in, he’d realised any attraction he’d felt had been fleeting, a desperate attempt to hide what he really was, and who he really wanted in his life.

“That’s the preliminaries,” she muttered, and touching her face, Daichi could tell she was smiling. “And I think that neither of you are actually repulsed, even if not actively attracted, so ... why don’t we ... uh ... see what happens?”

He felt a hand on his leg - not hers - it was bigger. Suga was taking his time, smoothing his fingers up Daichi’s thigh to slip under the shorts he was wearing. He closed his eyes, and with a muttered sigh, placed one hand around Michimiya’s waist, splaying his fingers over her bum.

“That’s it,” she said. “Suga, how are you doing?”

“M’okay. Oh ...”

“Huh?”

Daichi smirked. With his free hand, he’d trapped Suga’s and was now directing him further upwards. He moved against Suga’s palm, half working himself to an erection, as his leg slipped between Michimiya’s thighs.

“Suga’s fine. How are you?” he asked.

“I might need a bit of ... er ...” She faltered, obviously feeling Daichi hard against her.  “And ... um ... I’m a bit over dressed.”

“Uh ... sure.” It was Suga, and sounding only mildly flustered, he tugged at her sweatpants. “Sorry.”

“Suga,” she hissed, “you’re going to do a lot more than accidentally touching my bum with your fingers, so stop apologising.”

“I can’t help it. I don’t make a habit of sleeping with women!” he snapped. “This is all strange.”

“I’m female, not an alien,” she replied, and started to laugh again, a little nervously. Then she inhaled. “Suga, just take it slow. I know I’m not Daichi, but you might find we like the same things ... uh ... I mean, touching, not ... um ...”

It was Suga’s turn to laugh. Silhouetted against the curtains, Daichi could see his shoulders quivering, and hear the quake in his voice. “Daichi like it when I cover him with food, and lick it all off,” he lied. “He especially likes it when I drape  his dick with noodles and -”

“Suga!” Daichi rapped.

“I’m terrified! Forgive me for trying to lighten the atmosphere!”

“Guys, stop it,” she ordered, and sitting up, Michimiya reached over to Suga, and cupped his face in her hands. “Hey, you, I’m not that scary, am I?”

“Very.”

“Please. We’ve known each other for fifteen years Suga-chan. You’re one of my closest friends, so ...” She trailed off, and leant back.

“So?”

“Come here. Relax, and let’s take our time.”

***

 

In the night, Suga slipped out of the bed, and padded across to the kitchen. There was half a glass of wine on the table, but he walked to the fridge, pulled out a carton of juice and started to drink.

“Tut-tut. You always tell me off for not using a glass,” Daichi said from the door.

“Hmmm, things have gone a bit topsy-turvy on us recently, though, don’t you think?”

“Could say that.” Daichi slid his arms around him, resting his chin on Suga’s shoulder. “Hopefully for the better.”

He leant back into him, enjoying the warmth from Daichi’s bare chest on his back. They’d been so excited flying out here, so sure it would be a success, and he wasn’t going to say a thing to jinx it. Not now.

“How’s Yui-chan?” he asked.

“Mmm, fine. She’s fast asleep with her bum propped up on two pillows.” He nuzzled Suga’s neck. “You okay?”

“Uh ... not sure really. I mean, yes, I’m fine, but it’s all kind of unsettling.” He turned in Daichi’s arms, linked his hands behind his neck, and stared into his deep, brown eyes. “Have we done the right thing?”

“If it gets us what we want, then yes. Even if it doesn’t then at least we’ve tried.”

“And will we keep trying?” Suga asked, his voice muffled as he mouthed into Daichi’s chest.

He felt a kiss on top of his head, and then Daichi ruffled his hair. “I guess it depends how desperate we are. I don’t want to make a habit of it, if that’s what you’re asking. But ... uh ... I kinda hope this is a one-off.” He swallowed. “Whatever the result.”

Suga whistled out a breath. He had his answer, or a half answer at least.  “We should go back. If she wakes, she’ll think we’ve done a runner.”

Daichi smirked. “And left her holding the ba-”

“Don’t say it!” Suga whimpered. “Not even as a joke.”

***

 

They landed back in Japan three days later. Michimiya threw up on the flight, and later when she landed, but as she’d also thrown up on the flight to San Francisco, she laughed at their concern.

“I’m not ill,” she assured them as they waited for their luggage. “And it’s far too early for morning sickness. Air travel always makes me queasy.” She pointed at a blue case and reached out. “That’s mine.”

“Hands off,” Daichi ordered, stepping in front of her. “You’re not lifting anything heavier than a grape.”

“You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you, Sawamura?”

“Yeah, I am,” he replied grimly. “Sug, make her sit down. She still looks pale.”

He led her away, leaving Daichi to find their cases, and sat with her on a bench, patting her hand while simultaneously asking if she needed anything.

“You’re clucking too,” she said, and frowned at him. “Suga, if, and it’s a big ‘if’, this has worked and I am actually pre-”

“Don’t say it!”

“ _Pregnant_ ,” she insisted. “Then you need to chill. There’ll be nine months of this, and a lifetime after and –”

Placing one finger on her lips, he leant forwards. “Please, please, _please_ , don’t jinx this.”

She nipped his finger. “There’s no such thing as jinxing,” she said firmly. “I learnt that at High School. It works or it doesn’t. And no amount of lucky pants, dumb chants or whatever superstition you think will work, will actually get you what you want.”

“I know you’re right,” he murmured, “I j-just ... We want this so much.”

Cupping his face in her hands, Michimiya kissed him very gently on the brow, then pecked his nose. “And I’m going to do everything I can to make sure it happens, okay?”  He nodded.  “So, once Sawamura’s brought my case, I will get a taxi straight home and rest up for the day. I don’t have anything urgent to get back to, so I shall take it easy for the week.”

“We have to take you home,” Suga said, worried. “It’s the least we can do.”

“No, you have to let me do this my way,” she said, and kissed him again. “Suga, you’re adorable, but your fretting is infectious and I need to keep calm, okay?”

 

***

She did agree to call them every day, Daichi was grateful for that. He was also grateful for the fact that he landed back in his Tokyo office with a shed load of work that really wouldn’t wait. As a corporate lawyer, time really was money. He could handle the pressure with ease, but it was the first time he’d been truly glad it was there. Anything to keep his mind off the impending result.

Suga, he knew, was faring less well. Since university, he’d not found the job of his dreams, instead he’d fallen into a job as a copywriter, almost by accident, at a large advertising agency.  He hated it, but it kept the money rolling in, and he was good at making up catchy slogans for shitty breakfast cereals. And sadly, his boredom with work meant he wasn’t distracted by it, and he kept reaching for his phone.

“She hasn’t called today,” he said as soon as Daichi picked up.

“Uh ... Sug, she might be busy. Doesn’t she have a new commission?”

“Oh ... right. So she’d have turned her phone off.” There was a pause. “Maybe I should go round. I could make it in my lunch break.”

“No.”

“But she stops eating when she’s busy, you know that. And if –”

“Suga, you are _not_ to go round there. Mich wants space.”

“I’ll drop in, take her some soup or something, then leave.”

“No.” Tightening his tie, Daichi pulled on his suit jacket as he prepared for a meeting with a particularly picky client. But there was still Suga to placate. “I’ll text her, okay. And you and me can do lunch.”

“You and I,” Suga said automatically. Daichi heard him sigh. “I’m being a pain, sorry. Lunch would be good. Gah, sorry, I’ve got to go, there’s a new breakfast cereal bar needs my expert attention.”

“See you later at the tapas bar,” Daichi said, murmuring ‘love you’ then smiling when Suga said it back.

He texted Michimiya, keeping it light, asking how the commission was going, and whether she wanted to join them for lunch. (His fingers hesitated over typing out that invitation, but he didn’t have to tell Suga he’d asked and in the normal run of things, he’d have made the offer.) And then, turning off his phone, he hurried to his meeting.

Suga having arrived a few minutes before, was sipping cola when he turned up. He smiled, a kind of taut smile, and placed his glass on the table. “I haven’t ordered,” he muttered. “Not food, I mean.”

“Shall we just order tapas,” Daichi said, glancing at the menu. “That prawn thing’s good, and the bravas. You like the chicken wings, don’t you?”

“Uh ... sure,” Suga murmured, and turned his head, signalling for the waiter.  “Yui!”

“Yes, I texted her,” Daichi said patiently, still checking over the menu. “Ah, I turned my phone off. I better see if she-“

“No, she’s here!” Suga interrupted and got to his feet.

Daichi followed his gaze. Michimiya, wearing a paint splattered top and jeans, was walking towards them, her arm raised in greeting. Her hair, usually tied off her face when she worked, was flopping forwards.

Placing a hand on Suga’s arm, he pulled him back to his seat. “Suga, calm down,” he warned, but he couldn’t stop the flip-flop in his stomach when she approached. “Let’s keep this light, okay. It’s still early days.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, got it,” Suga muttered, but he fixed a huge smile on his face, and when Michimiya got to them, he leapt up and kissed her cheek. “Hey, good to see you. Will you join us?”

“Uh, that was the idea,” she said, sitting down as the waiter pulled out a seat. “Did lover-boy not tell you he’d invited me, Suga-chan?”

“I forgot,” Daichi explained. “I’ve not even checked my phone to see your reply. We were about to order, but can wait.”

She flapped her hand. “Oh, anything. I’m easy.”  Then she giggled, clapping her hand over her mouth. “But I guess you guys know that. Bad girl having a threesome. Guess that’s one thing to cross off the bucket list.”

Suga spat out his coke, spraying it across the table. “Not so loud and ... You have a _bucket_ list!”

“Doesn’t everyone?” she asked innocently, then after winking at Daichi, she added, “It wasn’t supposed to be with two gay guys though, so I might ignore it.”

“Mich, stop teasing him before he combusts,” Daichi said, summoning the waiter. “If I order tapas for three, is that okay?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded, only now checking the menu.

“Or fou-” Suga began, stopping abruptly when Daichi glared. He bit his lip and picked up his coke. “Uh ... drink, Yui?”

“Mmm, let me see,” she murmured. Her eyes flicked to the back of the menu, and then she smiled up at the waiter. “Could I take that, please?”

The waiter raised his eyebrows, a small condescending smile on his lips, as he perused her and her eclectic style.  “It is rather expensive. Is Madam sure?”

“Uh-huh, and don’t worry,” she said, gesturing to Daichi, “he’s paying. Oh and ...” she smiled again but this time at the pair of them, “Just the two glasses. In my condition, I really shouldn’t drink alcohol – not even champagne.”

 


	2. Scans and Plans

The bed looked uncomfortable. Certainly when Suga perched on the edge of it, he wondered how people coped with long stays in hospital. Not that anyone would stay long in this room with its pristine, clinical white walls, and flickering machines. The only signs that anything human worked in this room were the pin board of pictures, and a desk with an empty coffee mug at the side.

“So, Michimiya-san,” murmured the young sonographer. “You’re twelve weeks, yes?”

“Mmm,” she replied.

“Any problems?”

“Not really.”

“She’s not even had morning sickness,” Suga said, trying to curb his excitement.

“I went off noodles, though,” she said. “That was strange. You had to keep bringing me pizza.”

The sonographer’s eyes flicked upwards. “Sugawara ... you’re the father, yes?”

“Uh ...”

He was saved the necessity of a straight answer by a knock at the door, and then Daichi burst in, looking equally excited but also concerned. “Am I too late?”

“Who are you?”

“Ah ...” He bowed and held out his hand. “Sawamura Daichi. I’m ... um ...”

“He’s a friend,” Michimiya interrupted. “They’re both friends – close friends.”

The sonographer frowned as he looked at the paperwork. “Sawamura ... It’s your name on the bills.”

“Mmm, is that a problem?” Daichi murmured, and although his tone was soft, the glint in his eye was steely and telling.

“N-not at all.” He spluttered, swallowed, and then reached for a long tube of gel. “Could you lift your shirt, please?”

Exposing her still flat stomach, Michimiya reached out for Suga’s hand, then gestured with her other for Daichi to come closer. “Ready?” she murmured.

“Yes,” Daichi replied, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

“Uh ... yes,” Suga said, and squeezed her hand.

The sonographer stared at them, then shook his head, clearly bemused. Looking solemn, he addressed the three of them. “Before I start this, I should warn you that all I’m going is checking the development of the foetus. I will explain what I’m doing, what I’m measuring, but I can’t pass any comment. Please don’t take my silence as a sign that anything is wrong. If there is a problem – however minor – I will ask a doctor to talk to you about the options.”

Suga caught his breath, feeling his heart in his throat. The past few weeks leading up to this, they’d all been so concerned with possible miscarriage, that they’d not – at least he’d not – thought about any possible problems. Options ... it sounded ominous.

“Breathe,” Daichi whispered, taking Suga’s other hand in his. “It’s going to be fine.”

Squeezing gel onto her stomach, the sonographer spread it out before placing a small flat scanner across her abdomen. The machine by his side, flickered to life, a matter of greys and whites, and for all his research, studying scans on the internet, Suga could not make out a thing.

_What if she was mistaken,_ he thought. _What if all three pregnancy tests were wrong?_

“What are we looking at here?” Daichi asked. “You’re very quiet.”

“Hmm.” The sonographer looked up. “Oh, sorry. No, it’s fine. Just the one.” He grinned.

“One what?” Daichi leant forwards over Michimiya.

“Baby,” he replied. “Most people are very relieved when I say that. But there it is.”

“Where?” Suga rasped, peering closer.

“Oh, is that ...” Michimiya breathed, and stared at the screen. “Is _that_ the baby?”

“Yes I’m checking the heartbeat now. Good and strong. Can you see that there? That’s an ear.”

“Oh my, yes.” Suga beamed. “Look at that detail. Wow, I didn’t think at this stage we’d see anything.”

“Baby has ears,” Michimiya said and giggled. “That _is_ a relief!”

“He or she’s sucking a thumb,” Daichi whispered. “Suga, look at that. Look.”

“I’m looking.” Releasing Daichi’s hand, he wiped a tear from his cheek, before grasping it back, entwining their fingers.“This is unbelievable.”

“Okay, I’m taking measurements now, which should enable me to give you an EDD.”

“Huh?”

“Estimated Date of Delivery, Dai,” Suga muttered.

“Right,” said the sonographer at last. He removed the scanning pad, and the image on the screen froze. “According to the dates you’ve provided, and the measurements taken, I can confirm that you’re twelve weeks and two days into gestation. Your due date is January the sixth. This is an approximation, of course, and it’s perfectly normal for the baby to arrive within two weeks of this date.”

“And the baby’s healthy?” Michimiya asked, her fingers touching her abdomen, not yet pulling down her shirt.

“I haven’t asked for a doctor,” he said drily. “Everything looks fine to me.” He turned away, and picked up her notes. “You haven’t named the father on here.”

“No, I haven’t,” she said neutrally.

“It is customary,” he continued.

“But not a legal requirement,” she interrupted coolly, and swung her legs off the bed. “We’d like photographs, please.”

Raising his eyebrows but clearly not daring to question her further, the sonographer gulped. “Uh, certainly. One or two?”

“Three,” Daichi replied.

 

Later, back at Michimiya’s flat, while Suga made his customary pot of tea, Daichi stared out of the window.

“You’ve got that serious look on your face, Sawamura,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Um ... it’s nothing, not really.” He laughed a little. “Sorry, I am incredibly happy. This is ... it really is a dream come true, and Suga – ha, can you hear him singing in there? He’s been so tense these past few weeks, I haven’t heard a cheep from him.”

Michimiya tipped her head to the side. “Practising for lullabies, is he?”

“Something like that.” Chewing his lip, Daichi joined her on the sofa. “Uh, Micchan?”

“Mmm.” She narrowed her eyes. “What are you after?”

“Nothing. Just ... um ... wondered what we do about naming the father. Would it be easier if you put one of us on the form?”

Screwing up her nose, she considered. “Not sure. As you don’t want a DNA test until baby Sugawara or Sawamura is actually here, then it might be awkward if I take a guess and I’m wrong.”

“Why, we’re not going to contest each other for custody, are we?”

“I know that! I meant it’s awkward later on.”

“What do you mean?” It was Suga bustling in with a tray of tea and some biscuits. “Why is it awkward?”

“Uh ...” Michimiya flushed a pretty shade of pink, and nibbled at a biscuit. “Okay, I know we’ve not really discussed this, but I’m assuming you want to be there at the birth, yes?”

“Of course,” Daichi said, although now he thought about it, he wasn’t sure it would be a pleasure, exactly, but something he had to do.

“Well, you saw that guy today. He was flustered because there were three of us at a scan. If I name one of you as the father, what’s to say they won’t stop the other one being there and ... what if you’re the one standing in the corridor and it’s your baby being born. Won’t you feel ... um ... short changed?”

His hand trembling as he poured the tea, Suga cleared his throat. “I want to be there. I don’t care who the father is genetically. That’s _our_ baby, and I want to see him or her being born.”

“Me, too,” Daichi said softly.

“That’s what I thought. So, I’ll say nothing until actually in labour, okay.” Michimiya licked a biscuit crumb off her lips. “The next thing we need to discuss is who we’re telling? You can’t suddenly appear with a baby in January.”

“My family,” Suga said grinning. “My mom is going to be chuffed to bits.”

“Asahi, obviously. We need to give that big goofball as long as we can to prepare for the responsibilities of being an uncle,” Daichi said, and pausing, he sipped his tea.  “What about you, Mich? Do you want us to leave your name out of it?”

“My dad’s not going to care either way,” she said, sounding blasé. “If it makes it easier to tell _your_ parents, then I don’t mind you telling them who the mother is.”

He snorted. “My mom would have us married and living back in Miyagi in a month, and tell everyone I was finally out of my ‘alternative phase’.”

“She’s told them that much, has she?” Suga said. His tone was teasing, but he placed his hand on Daichi’s arm, his thumb stroking the underside of his elbow.

“Who knows? She makes it up as she goes along half the time. According to my cousin, she told him that I was working too hard to be committed to anyone.”

 

***

The advertising agency that Suga worked for was situated in a very modern building. With its walls of glass, it had the capacity to boil those inside in the summer, which was why the air conditioning system was on so high that most people wore long sleeves even when it was roasting outside. The floor he worked on also afforded the best views of Tokyo, and Suga’s desk, closest to the window meant he could catch the sun on his face and dream.

 His usual dream was that he wasn’t in a glass cage, but at home in bed on a Sunday morning, lying with Daichi and doing nothing much except being woken slowly with soft kisses.

If he turned his head, he’d find himself looking at the Tokyo Tower and then the memories came flooding back, of training camp, Kuroo and Kai laughing at the country hicks, of striving to succeed, and the opportunities they took to slip away together. Dangerous times. Reckless always, but somehow nothing was quite as thrillingly scary as the path he found himself on now.

“Suga-san?”

Letting out his breath, Suga looked up to see his junior assistant standing in front of him. “Akane-kun, do you need me for something?”he asked, hoping he didn’t sound reproving, but he was on his break, even if he wasn’t actually eating his lunch.

“You have a visitor,” she murmured.

“A client?”

“No. She said she was a friend. I did try to tell her you were busy, but ... um ...”

“But she said ‘He’ll want to see me’,” chimed another voice. “Hi, Suga.”

“Yui! What’s up?” He scrambled to his feet, upsetting his empty coffee cup. “Uh ... that’s all, Akane-kun. I’ll um ...”

“Bad time?” Michimiya said innocently.

“No, no, not at all. Uh ... are you okay? Do you want my seat?  Can I get you-”

“Shh, I’m fine. I was passing and thought I’d check you were still around for the scan tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure. Dai can’t. He’s gutted, actually, but he has a meeting and he can’t get out of it.” He frowned a little. “You could have called me, Yui, you didn’t have to come all the way over here.”

She held out her portfolio, the case she kept her illustrations in. “I had a meeting with a new publisher,” she said.

“Any good?”

She shrugged. “We’ll see. He’s old fashioned, took one look at my stomach and lack of a ring and ... well ... let’s just say I’m not optimistic.”

“Ahh, I’m so sorry.”

“Nope, it’s cool. I have other work.” She smiled, her face suddenly lit from within. “I’m not here to moan, anyway. I thought you might like to know something ...”

“Know what?”

Perching on his desk, Michimiya suddenly grabbed his hand. “There,” she said, “can you feel that?”

“Feel wha – oh!”  His eyes wide, Suga laid his palm flat on her stomach. Something stirred underneath. It wasn’t like anything he’d expected, not what he’d imagined a kick would be. It was more like a faint push as if someone on the other side of this flesh wall was pressing a hand up to his in welcome.

“Oh ...” he said again, and then he gulped. His eyes filled and his throat closed itself until all he could do was gasp for breath. “It’s the baby.”

“Well, I hope so, or else I’ve got some odd alien inside of me” she said, giggling.

“Th-That’s amazing!” he breathed.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. Baby Sawamura-Sugawara’s been kicking a while now, but it was only today I could feel it from your view point, so ...” Screwing up her nose, Michimiya ran her fingers through Suga’s hair. “I tried calling Sawa-chan, but his secretary said he was busy.”

“Mmm, he is snowed under at the moment,” Suga agreed. He moved his hand across her stomach, hoping the baby might move again.  “He’ll be annoyed to miss this. Oh ... there’s another. We’ve got a Hinata in there, jumping all over the place.”

“Uh ... Suga,” she hissed. “You’re getting funny looks from people.”

Looking up, he caught Akane’s eye, as well as one of the other junior copywriters. “It’s a baby,” he explained, then laughed because it really wasn’t an explanation at all.  “Shall we get coffee?”

Yui shook her head, and removing his hand, she slipped off the desk. “I shouldn’t keep you. But ... um ... Suga?”

“Mmm, what is it?”

“I love him to bits, but your boyfriend has been ... um ... very busy lately. He is okay, isn’t he?”

Straightening up, Suga gave her a half-smile then stroked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “He’s fine, I promise. He’s working hard because there’s a promotion coming up, but also ... uh ... he’s told his parents, and we’re waiting for their reply.”

***

He stared down at the letter in front of him. No one he knew sent letters anymore, and although he recognised the writing straight away, it was still a shock that she’d written, rather than made a phone call, or even hopped on the train to visit.

But he shouldn’t have been surprised. Since moving to Tokyo for University, Daichi’s parents had never visited, telling him he should make the trek back to Miyagi if he wanted to keep in contact.

_If._  Such a small word and yet it carried a weight across it. The weight of obligation and tradition. Breaking contact with them would prove to everyone what a bad son he was, but keeping up the semblance of a relationship, when neither would compromise, only delayed the inevitable.

Daichi had hoped his news would help. He’d thought that the possibility of becoming a grandmother (which was, she said, her main objection to his relationship with Suga) would soften her attitude.

He was wrong.

“Hey, you’re back early.”

Looking up from the letter, he caught the sight of Suga dumping his bag on the floor and removing his shoes.

“Yeah, I’ve got a headache, and a client rescheduled the meeting.” He faked a yawn and screwed the letter up in his hand. “Tea?”

“I’ll get it. You relax,” Suga replied, padding into their lounge.  He stopped and placed a cool palm on Daichi’s forehead. “Why don’t you lie down?”

“Only if you lie with me,” he muttered, but the words were half-hearted and he knew from Suga’s expression that Suga could tell there was something wrong.

“Want to talk?”

He shook his head and handed over the letter. “This arrived at work today. From Mom.”

“Guess she didn’t trust me not to open your mail, eh?” Suga murmured, taking the letter.  “Whoa!”

“Yeah. Bit of a contrast to the Sugawara grandparents, isn’t it?”

Suga was silent for a while. He smoothed out the letter, then handed it back before sitting alongside Daichi on the sofa. “Have you replied yet?”

He shook his head. “I wanted to, but I didn’t think you’d approve of the language.”

“It’s a lot of money,” Suga said. “And she hasn’t specifically said we need to split.”

“Still conditional.”

“Baby Sugawara-Sawamura might be Baby Sawamura, we don’t know yet.”

“It shouldn’t matter,” Daichi said, and kicked the coffee table.  He rubbed the bridge of his nose and screwed up his eyes, hoping to ease the ache pounding at his skull.  “It doesn’t to your mom.”

“Yeah, well, my mom adores you. She keeps going on about your good looks and build, so I swear she’s secretly hoping you’re the dad,” Suga replied. He touched Daichi’s cheek. “Can’t fault her taste.”

***

The headache had not got better overnight, despite the painkillers, but Daichi knew he needed to go to work. Assuring Suga he’d take it easy once the first meeting was out of the way, he clutched his jacket around him and stared moodily at the clouds gathering in the sky. Ordinarily he loved his job. He could handle pressure, talk persuasively and his mind made lightning fast connections over the minutiae of contract law, which he knew made him a valuable asset to the company.  Leaving early yesterday, even if the meeting had been cancelled, was something that was frowned upon. He worked with guys who’d sleep at their desks to prove their dedication, waking after a power nap to burrow themselves in more work.

And all the while, he was acutely aware that with the baby coming, both he and Suga needed both money and time. Childcare was expensive, and although their wages would cover it, it meant their baby would be brought up by strangers, which wasn’t the reason they wanted children. So in the early stages of talking parenthood through, it had been Suga’s decision that he’d be the one to stay at home. It made sense because not only he was less enamoured of his job, but also Daichi’s wage was higher, and the prospect of promotion was always on the horizon. Unfortunately, promotion meant more time at the office and not less. And he was becoming acutely aware of everything he was missing.

(“You felt the baby kick?”

“Uh-huh, it was more like a soft push,” Suga laughed, “a feint. I think we got ourselves a clever little Tsukishima there and not an Ace.”

“Damn, I wish I could have been there. I _should_ have been there.”

“Hey, there will be other times,” Suga murmured, and nuzzled his neck. “Yui won’t mind you calling round, you know that.”)

 

“You’re distracted today, Sawamura.”

“Mmm, sorry,” he replied, bowing to the senior partner. “I was thinking about the van Meyer account.”

His boss inclined his head, giving a grim smile. “Good. They’re an important client, and they’re impressed with you – so far.” He paused and beckoned Daichi closer. “They were asking about the possibility of you devoting yourself to their account.”

“Heading it up you mean?” Daichi whistled. Thirty years wasn’t especially young, but there were others with more experience he’d thought would take the lead.

“They’ll only want someone who can show utter commitment, though, Sawamura-kun.”

“I’ll do my utmost to keep them impressed,” he countered, but inside his mind was whirring.

 It would mean more money, but less time.  His head began to pound again.

 

“So what’s up?”  Her voice was chirpy on the other end of the phone, and he felt a weight of guilt pressing upon him, because Michimiya was the one who needed support, not him.

“Uh ... not much, but do you fancy lunch?” Daichi asked.

“Mmm, sounds good. Surprised you’re prising yourself away from your desk, though. Not been fired, have you?”

“Nothing like that. Just wanted to catch up as I’ve missed you the last few times.”

“Is Suga coming along?”

He paused.

“Ah, that says it all,” she said, and sighed. “Okay, tell me where and when.”

***

The American diner was her idea because, she told him, she was craving meat like it was going out of fashion.

“This place does the best burgers,” she said, “and Baby Sawamura-Sugawara – damn, I need a better name than that it’s such a mouthful – knows it.”  She inhaled as they sat at a table. “He or she is going crazy right now just at the smell of it.”

“May I?” he asked, and stretched out his hand.

“You’re the daddy – possibly,” she said, grinning impishly.

Tentatively he touched the bump, then burst into an incredulous smile as he was rewarded with a huge kick. “Whoa, she’s getting strong.”

“She?” Michimiya queried.

“Uh, or he,” he corrected, then flushed a little. “I think it’s a girl.”

“And you’re okay with that.”

 It wasn’t a question. Daichi, having known Michimiya for so many years, knew her issues and what nagged at her.

“I know this is gonna sound cheesy,” he muttered as he took her hand, “but what you’re doing for us is a blessing. It’s a miracle, and I don’t care either way what sex the baby is.”

“So you don’t mind about your family name?”

He snorted. “Yeah, ‘cause the Sawamura name is something to be _so_ proud of, isn’t it?”

About to speak, she stopped only when the waitress walked across to take their order.

“Suga told me,” she murmured, when the waitress had brought their drinks. “Well, he said your mom wanted proof of paternity.”

“Mmm. Give her a Sawamura grandchild, and she’ll give us – I mean me – a large cheque. And ...” He paused wondering whether to tell her, but ploughed on. “If it’s a grandson, then the cheque would be larger. Sorry.”

She flapped her hand. “Pfft, why am I surprised? Our parents come from good Miyagi stock, Sawa-chan. Have a kid, make sure it’s a boy, and give it everything you’ve got.”

“How is your dad?”

“Ha! Currently subsidising my brother’s second attempt at university,” she replied scathingly. “At least that’s what I’ve heard. I haven’t been in touch for a while.” She sipped her green tea and pulled a face. “Ughh, this tastes odd now. Maybe I’ll stick to water.”

Pouring her a glass from the carafe, Daichi took a breath before continuing. “I told her no, before you ask.”

“I didn’t think you’d do otherwise. I always said you were stubborn.”

“Mmm, thing is ...” Closing his eyes, he tried to screw up the nerve to tell her, but the words wouldn’t form.

“It’s a lot to turn down, yeah, I get it,” she murmured. “I don’t blame you for having second thoughts, and Suga won’t either, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

“I’m _not_ taking their money,” he insisted. “It just made me realise what it could do, and how having that behind us would mean I could maybe back peddle a bit on the career front.”

And then the words came tumbling out, how he was worried about everything he was missing out on – not just the recent scan – but the phone calls and lunches because he was forever stuck in meetings. How he didn’t want to be the kind of parent his dad had been – distant out of necessity. How even though it clearly was the best solution for Suga to stay at home, he didn’t want him to have all the responsibility.

“Suga will be fine,” Michimiya assured him. “And it’s kinda the way things work in Tokyo, isn’t it? That’s the work culture you’ve been sucked into, Sawa-chan.”

“Yep, and it’s not like I can set up alone,” he muttered.

“So, you want to take your parents money, or what?” she asked, looking confused.

He shook his head. “I’m _not_ taking it. I ... just ... needed to talk this through with someone.”

“You know something,” she replied, taking a huge bite of her burger.

“I know lots of things.”

“Ha ha.” She swallowed, and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Your dad was ‘distant out of necessity’, you said, but you don’t have to be that way. Sure, you’re gonna work long hours, but you both do, and yet you still find time for each other, don’t you?”

“Mmm, but-“ He wasn’t sure how to put it. But the way things were at the moment, both put their work issues behind them as soon as they walked through the door, but as Suga’s day would be taken up with the baby, there was no way that could be left at the door. And nor would Daichi want it to be. He groaned. Nothing could get away from the fact that he wasn’t in a position to be as involved as he wanted to be. At least not the way things were now.

“Mr Sawamura! What a surprise seeing you here.”

He looked up, startled to see his client from the morning’s meeting had just swanned in to the diner. With her sharp suit and even sharper styled blonde hair, she was as out of place as Daichi would have felt at the beach right now.

“Huh?” Michimiya followed his gaze. “Who’s that?”

“Um, Ms van Meyer. American client who owns a baking company that’s expanding here.  Apparently she wants me to head up her legal account in Japan, so I better be polite.” He got to his feet, bowing before addressing her in what he hoped was fluent English. “Quick lunch. I’ll be back at my desk and working on the contracts very shortly.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I was merely surprised to see you in here, that’s all. I’m sure it’s simply a place to pander to Americans like myself.”

“Oh ... my friend,” he gestured to Michimiya. “She ... um ... she was desperate for a burger.”

Ms van Meyer’s eyes flickered to Michimiya’s stomach and then she smiled. “A craving. I remember those. Chilli sauce and chocolate. How far along are you?”

“What’s she saying,” Michimiya hissed.

“Uh ... she doesn’t speak very good English, but she’s twenty six weeks,” Daichi replied.

“Boy or girl?” Ms van Meyer asked, addressing Michimiya in faltering Japanese.

“We don’t know,” Michimiya replied.

“We?” Ms van Meyer’s eyes flicked across to Daichi. “This is your child, is it?”

“Uh ...”

“Yes,” Michimiya piped up.

“Why, Mr Sawamura, you really are a dark horse,” she said, reverting to English. “I never had you down as the-”

“Mommy!”

She turned swiftly from Daichi, and her face broke into a wide smile, quite a contrast to her strict businesslike demeanour.  “Hey, Tiger! How are you doing today?”

Crouching, she scooped up a small boy, around six years old, Daichi thought, and held him close.

Jutting out his lip, he whispered something in her ear.

“Uh-huh, no more nasty business for today,” she replied, and turning she flipped a smile a Daichi. “This is my son, Bobby, and over by the door getting a table is my husband.  We decided to make this a working holiday.

“Bobby, this is Mr Sawamura, or Sawamura-san, as they say in Japan. He’s a very clever man, who’s going to sort out all Mommy’s problems, so we can have more time together.”

“Thawamura-than,” Bobby lisped. He stared up at Daichi, slightly suspiciously. “No more meetingth with my mom today?”

“No, none at all,” Daichi promised, and grinned. “Are you having fun in Japan, Bobby?”

He screwed up his face. “I don’t like the fish, but the ice-cream’s good.”

“Which is why we find ourselves in a burger bar again,” Ms van Meyer murmured. Lowering Bobby to the floor, she held out her hand to Daichi. “Make the most of this time before the baby comes, Mr Sawamura. They take over your lives.”

“Uh ...”

She laughed. “In a good way, but make sure the pair of you take time out to enjoy things the way they are now, all right?”

***

For the second time in a week, Suga was home after Daichi. He frowned a little as he opened the door, then smiled when he heard the other voice coming from the lounge.

“Hey, I’m back!”

“Mich is here,” Daichi called out.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Suga replied, then his eyes widened as he took in the bags in the hallway. “Uh, what have you been doing?”

“Shopping,” Michimiya replied, smiling up at him from the sofa. “Your boyfriend has been waving his credit card around.”

“What!” Suga gasped, his mouth dry. “Wh-what have you bought? No, Daichi, you agreed with me. You said you wouldn’t until ... Get everything out of here. Don’t-”

“Sug, calm down! Breathe,” Daichi laughed. “It’s not baby stuff. Micchan needed new clothes.”

“Yep, it’s all for me,” she said and grinned up at him. “Mind you, I tried to drag him to the baby department, but he refused. Still superstitious huh, Suga?”

“Yeah, okay, I know it’s dumb, but ...” He trailed off.

“No sweat, but you might have to get some things ready,” she replied. “Babs will be here before you know it, and you haven’t got so much as a diaper.”

“All on order,” Daichi replied. “Suga tells me most places keep things for you until after the baby’s born.”

“And my mom’s been hoarding things from when Chiharu and I were kids, so it’s not like we have nothing,” Suga replied, hating the fact that he sounded so defensive, especially as Michimiya was eyeing him quizzically.

“Wow, you are organised,” she said, and stretched out yawning. “I swear shopping never used to exhaust me like this. Think I should have an early night.”

“I’ll drive you home,” Suga offered.

She shook her head as she stood up, her hand under the bump. “I drove, so just give me a hand with the bags, will you, Suga?”

Kissing Daichi goodbye, she picked up her jacket, leaving Suga with the five bags. He followed her to the lift, noting that nothing was particularly heavy, and as she got annoyed every time either of them insisted on helping her, he figured there was an ulterior motive to her request.

“You were right,” she said.

“About Daichi?”

“Mmm, he thinks he’s missing out now, but he’s more worried what he’ll miss out on in the future.”

The lift door opened, they stepped inside and Suga leant his head against the wall. “He should talk to me about this.”

“Sugawara Koushi,” she said sternly. “You’re a great guy and I love you, but sometimes you’re hard to talk to.”

“Me?”

“All this superstition nonsense,” she declared. “You’ve got Daichi worried, too. Now, I get that you don’t want to tempt fate by setting up a cot, but you do need to make plans. And don’t pretend you have because I know you.”

The lift stopped. She took all the bags and stepped out into the hallway. “Go back and talk to him about life after the baby’s here? He wants to know that you’ll be okay when he’s stuck all hours at work and you’re up to your armpits in baby sick and teething gel.”

Open mouthed he didn’t reply, and it was only when the lift doors closed that he realised something.

“B-But I might not be,” he whispered, feeling his heart start to thud. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”


	3. Breathe through the Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Births in Japan are treated differently than those in the west, with mothers encouraged to breathe through the pain, not to use pain relief (like an epidural) and to make as little noise as possible. There's a phrase which roughly translates as 'no or small voice', which illustrates the latter. Micchan is a little different, though. :D

“Daichi, we’re having a baby!”

“What!” Jumping to his feet, Daichi leapt over the coffee table, scuffing his toe on its surface and landing with a thud on the carpet. He scrambled up. “Suga, what do you mean?  It’s too early. Call an ambulance or ... Keys, keys, where are my car keys? Where’s Micchan? Jeez, you haven’t just left her there, have you?”

“Micchan?” Suga shook his head. “Uh, what? She’s fine. She left me by the lift.”  He blinked.  “Why? Has she called you?”

“No ...” Daichi took a breath, rubbed his barked shin, and grimaced at Suga. “What are you talking about?”

“Werehavingababy,” Suga gabbled.

“But - and I want you to make this _very_ clear to me - not at this precise moment,” Daichi stated, eyeing Suga carefully.

“Uh ... no.”

“Oh –kay.” Exhaling he stood up straight, his hands on his hips. “Why the hell did you scare the life out me running in here to state the bloody obvious, Sug?”

“Because.” Suga swallowed. Reaching across he pulled on Daichi’s arm. “We’re having a baby and I’ve just realised I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing. Like ... there’s _so_ much to do. I need to get things ordered because, I’m sorry, I haven’t yet, and I know I said I had, but it was just me not thinking properly and just assuming ... Hell, we need to think about space and clothes and a cot – Jeez, what is she going to sleep in?” He furrowed his brows. “Bottles. We need a steriliser, Dai. We can’t wing this... everything has to be sterile, or she’ll-”

“She?” Daichi narrowed his eyes. “You keep saying she. Do you know what sex the baby is? I thought we weren’t going to find out. We agreed we wanted a surprise.”

“Oh!” Suga looked up, startled. “N-No, we didn’t find out. I j-just ... um ... I’m not sure, but I kind of think it’s a girl. Is that bad? It’s not like I’ll be disappointed if it’s a boy, but ... um ... Sorry.”

Laughing, because Suga so flustered over a slip of the tongue really did make his heart lilt, Daichi cupped his face, and kissed his nose.  “Don’t apologise, I think it’s a girl, too. Now, look, I’ve bunked off work, and I’ve turned my phone off for a change, so why don’t we get takeout, grab a bottle of wine, and talk. Really talk. Yeah?”

***

Later that evening, having eaten and opened the wine, they were sitting together on the sofa. It was dark outside, the October nights bringing a sturdier breeze and rain that rattled on the windows. Getting up, Suga closed the curtains, but stayed by the window, warming his hands on the radiator.

“I _am_ sorry,” he muttered.

Daichi looked up from his laptop. “Hmm?” 

“It should be me doing all this work. I should have done it already. Instead you’re the one using your occasional evening off, trawling websites for baby equipment.”

“Not a problem,” Daichi replied, sounding vague. His fingers tapped out something, and then he turned the screen around. “Which bassinet do you prefer? Or are we putting the baby straight into a cot?”

Relinquishing the warmth from the radiator, Suga joined him on the sofa. “Uh ... the cot won’t fit in our room, so we need the bassinet for the first few months.”

“So, the baby will be in our room for a while?” Daichi asked.

 “I read somewhere that babies in the first four months should sleep with their parents. It’s something about hearing their parents’ breaths helps regulate their own breathing. And ... uh ...” He stumbled over the words.

“What?” Daichi stopped typing.

“Cot death,” Suga mumbled. “It’s most likely in the first six months but, studies have shown that ... uh ...”

“Suga!”

“What?  Look, I wanted to be prepared, so I googled some things, and well, Japan has a really low incidence of SDIS – that’s Sudden Infant Death Syndrome -  but I thought it was good to research everything, and having the baby in our room would be beneficial, especially as neither of us smoke  and-”

“Gods, you infuriate me!” Daichi growled. Grabbing Suga’s arms, he kissed him, hard on the mouth then just as suddenly released him.

“Trying to shut me up, huh?” Suga muttered, and raised a hand to his lips.

“Look, I’m not disputing having the baby in our room,” Daichi said, with an apologetic smile. “It makes sense.”

“Then why are you angry?”

“Because, you dumbass, you’ve been researching all this stuff and not telling me. And I know you, Koushi. I know you inside out, and you’ll have been fretting on this, won’t you? Tying yourself into knots over something that happens so rarely that it’s statistically negligible.”

He prepared himself for the punch, but instead Suga flinched and started to chew his nails. “But you see – Hey!”

Now the punch came.

“What was that for?”

“You using words like ‘statistically negligible’. You’ve been looking it up, too.”

Daichi snorted and grinned. “I might have done,” he admitted, and took Suga’s hand in his. “We have to talk to each other, Sug.”

Suga punched him again.

“What was that for? We _do_ need to talk.”

“Calling me Koushi,” Suga replied sulkily. He settled backwards on the sofa, resting his head on Daichi’s shoulder. “You’re right, though. And I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for now?”murmured Daichi, stroking his hair.

“Yui told me you’re worried about missing out.” He turned his face and kissed Daichi’s cheek as he fumbled for his hand. “I won’t let that happen.”

Sighing, Daichi returned the pressure. “When you give up work, I’m still going to be working long hours. We already know that. But –” He swallowed. Having thought so much about their situation for months, he was now finding the right words difficult to say, but he ploughed on. “I d-don’t want to be like my dad. I w-want to be there as much as I can. I want our kid to be able to come to me. To talk to _me_ and not just you. I want to be a very real person in his or her life, and not just someone to see at weekends when I’m too tired and grumpy to do anything other than moan. I want ...” He closed his eyes, and chuckled a little sadly.  “I want to see our kid play volleyball, Suga.”

“You will. We both will,” Suga said. He sat up and refilled Daichi’s glass. “Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re not exactly a conventional couple, Dai,” he replied. “Perhaps we need an unconventional solution.”

Daichi yawned; his head was spinning now, the mass of information on his laptop now a blur.  “Mmm, you could be right.”  Tugging on Suga’s arm, he stood up. “Come on.”

“Why, where are we going?”

“Bed. And bring the bottle with you, Koushi.”

“I thought we were talking,” he protested, but stood all the same.

“I was given a very good piece of advice today by a client.”

“And that was?”

Smirking, he pulled him closer. “You’ll see.”

 

The usual pattern was for Daichi to fall asleep first. He was a morning lark, Suga a night owl, but they found their compromise with either energetic evening ‘fun’, or sleepy early morning sex where Daichi would take his time, waking Suga so slowly he sometimes felt as if he were still dreaming.

That evening, though, it was Suga whose eyelids drooped first. He yawned and snuggled closer to Daichi. “Love you.”

“Mmm, me too,” came the on pat reply.

Suga frowned. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Daichi kissed the top of his head. “Go to sleep.”

“Can’t. Not now I know you’re awake.”

“I’m fine, just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Solutions.” 

There was a pause, and then Daichi shifted his position, lying on his side. Suga gazed into his eyes. “Spill.”

Daichi pulled the duvet closer around them both, saying gently, “We could move back to Miyagi. With my experience, I’ll easily find a place with a local firm. I’d work fewer hours, so I’d be around more, but it would mean less money – a lot less.  And that’s not ideal, but maybe you could freelance for a bit. Or work part time. You might find something you actually like doing – maybe even back at Karasuno High.”

Suga stared at the ceiling, his eyes drifting to the corner where he’d seen a spider yesterday. He’d forgotten about it, and hadn’t checked to see if it had spun a web yet. His mum would have chided him by now.  “We could go back,” he agreed.

“We’d have friends around us. And family,” Daichi explained. “Well, we’d have _your_ family. I’m sure your mum would help out with childcare.”

“Yeah, she would. But ...we’re freer here, though,” Suga replied. He propped himself up on his elbow. “We have some anonymity in Tokyo.”

“Which will go when the baby’s here. We’ll be far more visible then.”

“We have friends here, too,” he said, thinking of not just of Michimiya, but Kuroo and Morisuke – who’d remained in touch since university.

“You don’t want to leave.”

Suga sighed. He knew nowhere was perfect, but here in Tokyo, in their apartment, he was pretty sure they’d come close. Miyagi might have the advantage of space and an easier pace of life, but small town mindsets prevailed. “Do you?”

Dropping a kiss on his mouth, Daichi held him close. “Not really. I don’t want to be that near my parents. Sorry if that’s harsh. Just wanted to be sure I wasn’t short changing you or the baby, for the sake of pride.” He stretched and yawned.

Suga smiled at him. “Go to sleep. We’ll figure it out another time.”

“Mmmhmm,” Daichi murmured, and closed his eyes. “Love you.”

And now it was Suga’s turn to lie awake. _Freelancing?_  In Miyagi – yes that could work. But here? He’d not given it any thought because he’d thought it impossible.  His contract forbade him from joining a rival company within six months of leaving. It was standard in the business, a way to prevent someone poaching clients for their new firm. And freelancing came under the same rules because it was akin to setting up on his own. His firm never used freelancers, preferring to keep everything in-house, _but_ if he was leaving anyway, he had nothing to lose by broaching the subject. And then they wouldn’t be so dependent on Daichi’s wage.  “I’d need a study,” he said aloud.

“Huh?”

“S-sorry, go to sleep.”

“No, tell me,” Daichi said, shaking off the drowsiness.  “What do you want a study for?”

“We have the spare room. That could work,” Suga gabbled. “But it’s for the baby.  It can’t sleep with us all the time. Actually ...”

“Actually what?”

“I could use the table. I only really need a laptop and a work surface. My desk at the office is big only because I’ve been there a while.”

“Suga.”

“Mmm.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about, and I’m sure it’s brilliant, but can we talk about it in the morning?”

***

When morning broke, a drab autumn day with grey sunlight clunking through the curtains, Suga had barely had any sleep. He’d been running over the options in his mind, at one point convinced Miyagi was the best option, then changing his mind an hour later because the life they had here was good. Daichi, whatever he said about working for a local firm, would be bored out of his skull with work and the lack of opportunity.

“You look shit this morning,” Daichi muttered.

“Love you, too, honeypie,” Suga said sarcastically. He rubbed his eyes and accepted the mug of tea Daichi had made.

“Would you prefer coffee?”

“No, I’ll drink this and –” He yawned. “I’ll drink this then grab something on the way to work.  Don’t worry about me. There’s a pile of work in my in tray that I can use as a pillow.”

Daichi grinned and flicked him on the nose. “You’re a fine example to the advertising industry, you know that?”

“Yeah, they love me, sadly.” He frowned a little, remembering the whirl of thoughts that had kept him awake most of the night. “Actually, maybe that’s not so sad. Daichi?”

“Mmm?”

“They do love me there.”

“You’re good at your job, however much you despise it,” Daichi said. “What’s not to love? Sug ...please don’t tell me you’ve decided you can’t leave. I think Mich’ll throttle you.”

“Huh?” Suga blinked and sat further forwards. He plucked at Daichi’s shirtsleeve, tugging him back on the bed. “Oh, no, I still plan on leaving, but ... I wonder if they’d let me do some work at home, just little bits. Even if it’s only proof reading, or tidying up copy.”

“You told me they didn’t like freelancers?”

“Mmm, they don’t.”  He sipped his tea, mulling over the idea. “But maybe they’d accept me as a part timer if I worked exclusively for them.”

“But you hate the work, Sug,” Daichi said gently.

“If it means you not having to work so hard, and having time with us as a family, then...” He smiled. “Dai, there’s no contest here. I’ll tell them today about the baby, and offer this as a deal. Okay?”

“Us,” Daichi whispered. “I like the sound of that.”

 

Buoyed up with optimism (and several extra shots of caffeine in his latte) Suga bowled up for work in a determined mood. He’d catch his boss, draw him to one side and tell him about the baby. In his head, he had all the arguments prepared. He would suggest a way forward, say that he didn’t want to leave them stranded, play on the fact that he was only giving up the marvellous opportunities he’d had with the firm because something altogether different was happening in his life. He’d hint at regret, then mention that he could still be a part of the team, if they so wished...

 

“They didn’t buy it, huh?” Michimiya said.

Deciding against throwing his coat across the room because it would be impolite in her home, Suga settled for shaking his head and growling. “Nope. There was me thinking I worked somewhere more open minded but –”

“They know you’re gay, right?”

“Uh-huh, and that wasn’t the issue, but they were kinda shocked that a man would voluntarily want to stay at home with a baby.” He scratched his head and sighed. “They said they’d think about it, but I’m not holding out much hope.”

“Hey, chin up,” she clucked, and joined him on the sofa. “Look, it might not be as bad as all that. You could have got the wrong idea.”

“Don’t think so. They’ve suddenly dumped a lot more work on me, and insisted I go to some schmooze fest in December to meet new clients.”

“See, they appreciate your charm, Sugawara,” she said and laughed.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll quit early. I only have to give a month’s notice,” he muttered gloomily. “Except I get the feeling that’s what they want.”

“Stop that,” she ordered, punching him on the arm. “It might be fine, you don’t know. Look, remember that publisher I went to see. The one I just _knew_ wouldn’t hire me because he saw I was unmarried and pregnant?”

“Uh...” He thought back, remembering her story from weeks before. “Just before the twenty-week scan. The old-fashioned guy.”

“That’s the one.” She stared at her hands. “He ... um ... he wants to hire me,” she murmured. “It’s great money, too, and it means I won’t be scrabbling for commissions as much.”

Splashing a kiss on her cheek, Suga hugged her. “That’s fantastic, Yui. And well deserved.”

“Mmm, maybe,” she replied. And then, taking a breath, she lifted her face again and her smile was wide. “Don’t quit yet. Use that charm, and prove to your boss that they need you, that they’ll still need you when you’re knee deep in diapers. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting with a grin.

“Baby Dai-Suga needs this,” she continued.

“Yes, you’re ri-” He stopped abruptly.  “Uh ... who?”

“Dai-Suga,” she continued and giggled. “I told you Baby Sawamura-Sugawara is far too long.”

***

The bed was warm when Suga slipped between the sheets. Daichi stirred a little, drowsy but all the same, he reached across furling his arm around Suga’s waist.  “Good night?”

“Boring. But my schmoozing was for good cause,” he muttered.

“Huh?” Daichi rubbed his eyes. “Oh, you’ve got an answer?”

“Mmm, and it’s good news. They will let me do some work from home.” He crept closer. “Not as much money, but I’ll be _here_.”

“My wage will cover it,” Daichi murmured. “Even if I work fewer hours, we’ll be fine.”

“I know.” His hand, which had been on Daichi’s chest, teasing the thick black hairs, slid across to his shoulder as he pressed his lips to Daichi’s neck. “This client...”

“Mmm, what about him?”

“Her, actually,” Suga replied. “She asked me why I was leaving, so I pulled out the picture of Baby Dai-”

“Baby Suga,” Daichi corrected.

“Baby Dai-Suga,” he compromised. “Isn’t that what Yui says?”

“Ridiculous,” Daichi tried to stop the groan in his throat but Suga had begun his achingly slow dance with his fingertips down his arm and towards his torso. “What about this client?”

“She saw the picture of us in my wallet,” Suga murmured. His teeth nipped at Daichi’s neck, then wetted a path downwards. “I thought I’d lost the account.”

“Why?”

“Uh ... why do you think?” Suga murmured. His lips had reached their destination. Taking Daichi’s cock in his mouth, he licked and started to suck, until he felt Daichi’s fingers in his hair, tugging him away before it was too late.

“Why?” Daichi repeated, stroking his face.

“Because some of these clients are very old fashioned, even in advertising,” Suga replied and sighed as he levered himself up. “They suspect I’m gay, but the actual proof is ... um ... sometimes too much for them.  Plus most of our clients trade on family values to flog their manky breakfast cereals.”

“But you didn’t lose the account?”

“No.” Suga smiled, remembering the woman’s surprise breaking into a laugh. Not a nasty laugh but one of genuine pleasure. “Quite the opposite. She insisted I was more involved.” “They’re bringing out a range of fresh, store-baked baby foods. She thinks my ... uh ... ‘unique perspective’ might add something to the campaign.” He bent his head down and nuzzled Daichi’s thighs again. “Why am I talking to you about work, when I could be doing something far more interesting?”

 Daichi wanted to reply, but when Suga slid up him, his legs astride, he forgot everything he was going to say.

***

 

Daichi didn’t realise it was his phone going off at first. He’d set various tones to suit different people, just in case he didn’t want to answer. There were two for work (his bosses, because they were jump to it matters, and his colleagues because that meant he could answer on the fourth ring). The ring for friends was a general one – boring Suga called it – but he didn’t want anything too out of the ordinary in case it went off at work. The ringtone for Suga was one he couldn’t control because Suga would pick up his phone and change it to whatever he wanted late at night when Daichi was asleep. Usually Daichi remembered to set it back to the soft and lyrical tinkling harp strings, but as he listened to the trumpet now fanfaring ‘Happy Birthday’ through the office, he looked around, waiting for someone else to answer before he realised something.

Today he was thirty-one years old, and his boyfriend, who’d been looking especially mischievous when he’d kissed him goodbye this morning, had obviously mucked around with his settings again.

“Suga!” he hissed.

“Baby,” Suga whispered.

“Now is not the time –” Daichi muttered. “I’m up to my ears in fricking contracts and I really can’t –”

“No, Baby-” Suga repeated, his voice sounding strangled. “Daichi, the baby’s on its way. Yui’s just called me.”

“B-but it’s not the sixth!”

“That’s just what I said,” Suga gulped. “Yui told me the baby ...uh ... ‘didn’t give a fuck about the date’ and ordered me to get round to hers.” He stopped speaking. Daichi could hear his ragged breaths and the sounds of the street behind him.

“Suga, are you okay? Do you have the car?”

“No, I’m on my way to hers now, and I’ll drive her car. I’ll let you know what’s happening and whether you need to get here quickly. There’s no need for you leave yet.”

“Don’t be so fucking stupid!” Daichi yelled, not caring that two of the senior executives and his immediate boss were bearing down on him. “I’m on my way.”

“Thank you,” Suga whimpered, “because I think my lungs are about to cave in.”

“BREATHE!”

There was an achingly long silence. Daichi stood in the middle of the office, halfway between putting on his jacket and packing up his brief case, and then he heard a shuddering breath. “Suga?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, ‘m good,” Suga replied.

“Really?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he asserted. “Subway’s crowded so I’m getting a cab to Yui’s and I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

“Okay, I’m on my way,” he asserted. Clicking off the phone, Daichi hurried to the door, then dashed back to his desk to collect his briefcase.”

“Sawamura!”

“Uh ...” He bowed to his boss. “Nakahara-san.”

“Where are you going? There’s a conference call with Apple Pie Dreams in fifteen minutes, and you are required to be there.”

“I ... uh ... I ...”  Apple Pie ...what? What was he on about? Oh , yeah, client. Ms van Meyer.  American.  Squaring his shoulders, he faced them all, and fought an insane urge to laugh at the serious faces in front of him. His mouth twitched into a lopsided grin. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay. Please convey my apologies to Ms van Meyer. I’m sure she’ll understand, though. I’m ... uh ... having a baby.” He laughed. “Sorry, I really have to go. Suga’ll punch me if I’m late. And Micchan ... my gods ... Micchan will kill me if I’m not there.  And she punches harder than Suga.”

***

 

For someone who was in the throes of labour, and had called him yelling the odds barely twenty minutes before, Michimiya was looking remarkably cheerful when she answered the door to Suga.

“I th-thought you’d be bent over in agony,” he gasped.

“It comes and goes,” she said, smiling.

“How far apart are the contractions?”

“About five minutes,” she replied. “Plenty of time yet, but I thought I should get you here just in case.”

And then the grin died from her face. He saw her brows crease, and her mouth pout as she started to pant.  “Fwaa, fwaa,” she puffed, circling her hips. “Fwaa – oooh, that’s better ... No...no it’s not. Fwaa, fwaa.”

“Uh...” Suga blinked, swallowed, and then blinked again. _Come on, Koushi. Get your ass into gear. She needs you._ “Where’s your bag?”

“Hmm?” She rotated her hips in the other direction. “Fwaa, fwaa.”

“Hospital bag, Yui.”

“Uh ...” She pointed towards her kitchen. “On the table. I was just about to put a book in there.”

“Book?”

“Or a magazine,” she replied. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I don’t know how long this will take.”

Deciding not to argue (he had no experience of this after all. Maybe some moms did sit and read while giving birth). “Sure. Which book? I’ll get it.”

“Um.”  She flapped her hand. “Forget it. Go and get my sketchpad instead. Oooh .... wow, fwaa, fwaa-”

“Yui, that’s not five minutes apart.”

“N-no, I think it’s three,” she gasped, and started to circle her hips again. “Fwaa, fwaa. Suga-aa, this is speeding up! I thought first labours were supposed to be long.”

“Don’t mind. Don’t mind,” he said, and picking up the bag, grabbing her car keys, he wrapped a coat around her. His phone rang.

“It’s pissing down,” Daichi shouted. “I’m trying to get a cab, but they’re all taken. Where are you?”

“About to leave,” Suga replied.

Michimiya moaned - her voice throaty – and clutched his arm. “Oooh, that’s a bigger one.”

“Dai, get there when you can, but get there quickly, okay.”

 

Suga didn’t remember much about the journey to the hospital. Because it was raining, the roads were crowded, and he recalled the air in the car turning blue as both he and Michimiya swore – he at the other drivers, she for a far more urgent reason.

“How far apart?” she yelled.

“Still three minutes,” he said, checking the clock. “We’ll be at the hospital very soon, Yui.  OR WILL BE IF THAT FUCKING TOSSER DOESN’T GET OUT THE WAY! Just hold on.”

“I’m trying to,” she moaned, “but I think Baby Dai-Suga’s got other ideas.”

“Impatient like its mom,” he soothed, and swerved into the hospital car park.”

She gulped and started to pant again. “Fwaa, fwaa. Don’t say that.”

“What?”

“Mom. I’m not the mom, Suga. Don’t say that,” she growled.

 

He’d called ahead (although he couldn’t quite remember doing that either) so the paperwork preliminaries were more or less done. 

“And you’re the father, Sawamura-san,” asked the midwife, a mature looking woman with streaks of grey in her hair, and round glasses perched atop her head as she flipped through the notes.

“No, I’m Sugawara Koushi, but uh ...”

“I’m Sawamura.” Daichi called, hurrying through the door. He kissed Michimiya’s cheek, and squeezed Suga on the arm.

“Only the father or close relatives are allowed in the delivery room,” the midwife insisted, and looked at Suga. “You’ll have to stay outside in the waiting room.”

“The father’s unnamed,” snapped Michimiya. She bent over, clutching her sides. “They’re both coming in with me.”

“That is highly irregular. Are you telling us that neither of them are the father?”

“Fwaa, fwaa, fwaa – Oh fuuuck!” She gripped Daichi’s hand, making him wince, then with remarkable presence of mind faced the midwife.  “No, I’m telling you that _either_ of them could be the father. Yes, I’ve been a very bad girl and have no idea which one is the daddy, so ... fwaa, fwaa, fwaa ... you will let them both in to support me or else ... Fwaa, fwaa ...” She pointed to Daichi. “This guy’ll sue your ass off, and the other one will ... uh ... immortalise you with a shitty breakfast bar slogan.”

***

Daichi wasn’t exactly sure what he’d expected from the delivery room. He’d missed the tour of the hospital, and somehow had it in his head that there would be a host of women all in the same position, with legs in stirrups, being urged to push. What they were ushered into was a single room, brightly lit, with a comfortable bed and a reclining chair in one corner and a beanbag in the other.

“Oh, look, a TV,” Suga exclaimed.

“Yeah, cause that’s really the point of being here!” Michimiya snarled. “Sawamura, help me on this bed.”

As if he’d been bitten, Suga backed away, apologising. Within a minute, Michimiya was saying sorry to him.  “I want to get out of these clothes,” she mumbled. “Will one of you help?”

“Um?”

“I can’t give birth with my tights on, Suga! Just pull them off, will you? And you,” she demanded, gesturing to Daichi, “Get my nightshirt out.”

“This ...” He pulled a white button up shirt with a cat on the pocket.

“Yep.”  

Averting his eyes, he helped her out of her sweater and bra, whilst Suga dealt with her tights and skirt. She laughed at them both and wriggled into the nightshirt, still smiling until the next contraction came. “Lighten up, guys, Baby Dai-Suga’s nearly here.”

Before either could reply, a young doctor walked in. At least Daichi assumed she was a doctor because she had a stethoscope around her neck and was discussing something with the older stern-looking midwife, who’d greeted them at reception.

“So, Michimiya-san,” the doctor declared. “How are we doing?”

“Well, I’m doing bloody marvellously,” Michimiya huffed. “But I have no idea about you.”

Raising her eyebrows at the midwife, the doctor began her examination, warming the stethoscope between her hands before she pressed it to Michimiya’s abdomen.  “I’m going to get you hooked up to the monitor. First labours are usually a lot longer than this, but the heartbeat’s strong and there are no sounds of distress, so it’s merely a precaution.”

Her face screwed up in pain, Michimiya shot a despairing look at Daichi, as the doctor performed an internal examination. He coughed. “How much longer, do you think, Sensei?”

“Well.” She snapped off her rubber gloves. “You’re four centimetres dilated, but the head’s not fully engaged, so you’ve got a fair few hours ahead of you.”

“I could break your waters for you, if you’d like,” suggested the midwife.  “That can speed things along.”

“No, no,” Michimiya cried and started to breathe deeply. “This should be as natural as possible.”

The midwife and doctor nodded in approval, but Daichi  and Suga– whose birth experiences consisted of vegging out in front of dramatic hospital dramas imported from America - both started.

“Really, Micchan?” Daichi whispered. “Only they will provide pain relief if we insist.”

“No, no, I’m fine. I can do this,” she breathed, and all at once became calmer. “It’s better for the baby if I remain peaceful. Suga?”

“Right here.”

“Help me off the bed, will you?  I want to stand up. OOOOHHHH!  AGHHHH!”

“Small voices,” cooed the midwife, and turned to Suga. “I don’t know what’s going on here with the three of you, but encourage her to breathe through the pain. Screaming will only make her throat sore and isn’t the way to welcome a life into the world.”

 

With a mixture of breathing, back rubs, acupressure and a lot of soft groaning, Michimiya passed through two hours with relative ease. It was relative in the sense that the midwife was happy, and the doctor had popped back to check the monitors only twice and pronounced herself satisfied.

 “You’re doing well,” she said cheerfully and swanned out the room.

“This huuurts,” Michimiya wailed, when she’d gone, and bit her lip so hard, Suga wasn’t sure why she hadn’t drawn blood.  “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Small voices,” the midwife reminded her. “Breathe the pain away.”

“Hey, you’re brilliant,” Suga soothed. “Shall I rub your back?”

“Yes ... no ... Oh, hell ... stop!” She screwed up her face, gritting her teeth and clasped Daichi’s hand. “How do women do this? How do they have more than one?  This is ... oh oh –”

“Breathe,” Suga encouraged. “Come on, fwaa, fwaa, fwaa.”

“Mich!” Daichi said, his tone low but direct. “I know you. You’re tough and you’re good at keeping things together, but if you want to scream, then let it out.”

“No, the baby. I should be quiet. Makes it more contented.”

“Hey, it’s us bringing up this baby. You yell all you want,” he retorted, and glared at the midwife.

“You’re right,” she huffed and took another, deeper, controlled breath. “Sorry, when Dai-Suga’s yelling his or her head off in the middle of the night, you can blame me, but for now-AGHHGHHHHHHHHH!”

“OWWW!” yelled Daichi as she gripped his hand even tighter, digging her nails in. On her other side, he could see Suga grimacing before he too let out a scream.

“Breathe through the pain, guys,” she muttered. “Breathe through the fucking pain.”

 

Their combined screams earned a strong rebuke from the midwife, but also brought about another change. As the doctor rushed back into the room, concern turning to resignation when she realised no one was dying, Michimiya suddenly clutched her stomach. A second later, her waters broke, splashing the floor around the three of them, and she opened her mouth.

“Keep it down!” ordered the midwife.

“I-I can feel it,” she wept. “I can feel the baby. It’s coming.”

“Nonsense, you were only four centimetres,” scoffed the doctor. “It’s highly unusual for a first time mother to dilate that quickly. What you’re experiencing is the baby’s head engaging-”

“Tell the baby that!” Michimiya cried and let out another shriek. “P-please, get me back to the bed.”

“Making all this noise won’t help, Michimiya-san!” the midwife chided, but she turned to the doctor. “It’s unusual, but not unheard of, Sensei.”

But it was Suga who laced his arm underneath Michimiya’s, leading her back to the bed, his face strangely at peace and in command. “So close now,” he whispered. “You’re doing brilliantly.”

And then the doctor and midwife took over. Realising she wasn’t exaggerating, that she wasn’t mistaking anything, they pushed both Suga and Daichi to the head of the bed, whilst they concentrated on Michimiya, now crouching on all fours.

Daichi reached for Suga’s hand, intertwining fingers as they waited. Michimiya stared glassy eyed ahead, panting as they exhorted her not to push, sweat beading her face.

“You’re amazing,” Daichi whispered.

“I know!” she retorted, then grimaced. “Thank me later, Sawa-chan. I’m not up to an inspirational speech right now – AHHHHHH!”

“Pant!”

“Fwaa, fwaa, fwaa,” she huffed.

“Yes, that’s the head,” said the midwife, taking charge. “You’re doing well. Now, one more push. One more.”

“It hurts,” Michimiya sobbed.

“One more, Micchan.”

“Yui, you’re doing brilliantly.”

Her face contorted, red suffusing her face as she tensed then bore down, her chin in her chest as she pushed. And the scream now wasn’t loud, but low, rich, primal until at last they heard the midwife’s voice.

“It’s a girl!”

He felt a lump, a constriction in his throat, solid but scratchy, warm, but still unswallowable, and as he looked at Suga, really stared into his cinnamon eyes, he saw he too was similarly afflicted.

“A girl,” Daichi rasped. “Our girl.”

Suga sobbed. “We have a daughter.”

Eyeing them strangely, the midwife returned to the matter in hand, cleaning the baby, checking her over with the doctor, before handing her, loosely wrapped, to Michimiya.

“They say,” she murmured to them all, and there was a twinkle in her once stern eyes, “that newborn babies always resemble their fathers. It’s something to do with animals in the wild not attacking their offspring.”

“Let me see,” whispered Michimiya. Taking their daughter, she held her close against her chest, and peered into the blanket. “Hey, baby, want to meet your daddies.”

Daichi heard Suga’s indrawn breath, and caught his own. For there in Michimiya’s arms lay a perfect replica, with a faint sprinkling of hair not jet black, not blonde but a something in-between. Yet it was the shape of the lips – the pale rosebud of a bow - that told the story of their child’s paternity.

“She’s yours, Suga. And she’s so beautiful.”

“No,” Suga replied, his voice cracking. “She’s ours.”


	4. Skinship

“Hey, you shouldn’t be doing that,” reproved Suga. “Relax, I’ll pack for you.”

Looking up from her case, Michimiya grimaced. She looked tired, he thought, which wasn’t surprising, but she wouldn’t be told to take advantage of a longer stay in hospital, insisting she wanted to leave. “What time’s Daddy Daichi getting here?” she asked.

“Just after three,” Suga replied, and manoeuvring the baby ever so slightly, he glanced at his watch. “About thirty minutes. Do you want to hold her?”

She shook her head. “You’re a natural, Sug.” She sniffed. “I knew you would be.”

The baby stirred in his arms, he felt a clutch at his heart as she puckered her soft lips and let out the minutest of wails. “Oh, sweetheart, do you want feeding?”

“I expressed some milk earlier,” Michimiya murmured, and flicked her head towards the door. “There’s a small fridge out there. I’ll get it for you.”

“I can get it,” he said. “Take her for a moment.”

Shaking her head, she took a pace away from the bed. “Sug, stop this.” She smiled, yet there was a touch of sadness in her eyes. “You need all the chances to bond you can get. The midwife recommends skin-to-skin contact. Skin-”

“Skinship, yes I know,” he said. “I read up on it.”

“Always prepared, eh, Sugawara?”

“Hmm, not sure anything prepares you really, does it?”

She said nothing but walked out of the room, returning a few minutes later, shaking a bottle.  “There’s another bottle in there, but that’s the last of it, okay? Formula after that. You have bought some, haven’t you?”

“Three tins,” he replied and accepted the bottle. The baby – his daughter – started to whimper. “Okay, sweetheart, just let Daddy check the temperature.”

“I did. It’s fine,” Michimiya said. She returned to her case, closing its lid, then climbed onto the bed and switched on the television.

He checked anyway, letting a droplet of milk fall onto his wrist before nuzzling the bottle to her lips. “Oh, oh, you’re ready for this, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“You do know she can’t go through life being called sweetheart, don’t you, Suga?”

“Mmm, we have a name,” he said, looking up. Michimiya’s eyes were glued to the screen, but he thought she’d looked over. “We were going to tell the family at the naming ceremony, but obviously if you want to know now.”

“Nope, I’m fine.”

“Yui?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You are coming, aren’t you?”

“Oh!” She flicked her head towards him, and look she gave him was startled, but open, and a genuine smile filtered across her face. “Yes, Suga, I promise you I’ll be there.”

“Then – Oh, hold on,” he murmured. In his arms, the baby had started to fuss, flailing one arm against his chest. “Is there a cloth there? She’s spat up a bit.”

“You should pick one up before you feed her,” Michimiya replied as she clambered off the bed.

Holding out his hand, expecting her to throw him a muslin square, Suga was surprised when Michimiya approached. She bent over the pair of them, touching the cloth to the baby’s mouth. “There you go, beautiful,” she said, sounding matter-of-fact, but he wondered if she was about to say more.

“Where is Sawa-chan?” she said after a while. “I’m gasping for a decent cup of tea.”

 

Daichi, while they were talking, was stuck in the office. He glanced at his watch, trying to quell the exasperation he felt because he’d told his boss he had to leave early, and had now been called in for a ‘talk’. His mind mulled over another colleague, whose wife had given birth a month before. He’d been allowed time off, two weeks to help settle his son, but Daichi was given no such concession.

“Sawamura? Nakahara-san will see you now,” Kimi, his boss’s secretary said as she walked from his office. She smiled at him. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Ah ... yes, thank you.” He couldn’t stop the smile breaking on his face.

“A girl, yes?” She gave him a side glance. “D-does she look like you?”

“No,” he replied, and laughed as he walked past her. “She’s beautiful.”

His boss’s office was - naturally - larger than his own. There were plusher seats too, but the one set aside for him was wooden, and not designed for comfort. He bowed and took his place. It was only then that he realised they were not alone. For in one of the plush seats sat a client -a client dressed in a pale blue suit, a crisp linen shirt, and black heeled shoes. Shoes that he thought could very likely stiletto a man through the heart.

Mentally steeling himself, because he’d assumed he was in charge of her account and that she’d have come to him first if there were any problems, he bowed his head to her.  “Ms van Meyer, what a surprise and pleasure. I had no idea you were coming back to Tokyo so soon.”

“A flying visit,” she said. “I wanted to look over a premises before we signed a contract. There’s only so much a manager can tell me about locations.” She paused and recrossed her legs, smoothing her skirt down, and all the while her eyes did not leave his face.

Daichi gulped. He didn’t know why she was here, and why he’d been summoned to meet her again, but he could only assume it wasn’t good news.

“Kimi tells me you’ve recently become a father,” she said, her voice mild. “How is your girlfriend?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his boss flinch. His relationship with Suga wasn’t exactly a close-guarded secret, but neither did he advertise it. “She’s well,” he muttered. “In fact she’s coming out of hospital today.”

“Mmm, I’ve been told you have to leave soon,” she replied, and smiled ever so slightly. “Don’t look so worried, Mr Sawamura, I will keep this brief. I am merely dropping by as a courtesy, and to inform you that we will be opening _two_ premises in Tokyo, so if you could sort out the necessary paperwork - the end of the week will do - then we can proceed.”

Getting to her feet, she held out her hand to Nakahara, then turned back to Daichi. “I believe you’re on your way to the hospital, so would you escort me to my car?”

“Certainly.”

It was when the lift door had closed on them, and they found themselves alone, that Ms van Meyer gave him the second surprise of the day. 

“How is Sugawara?” she asked softly.

“P-pardon?”

“You heard me,” she replied.

He stared at her, stared at the impassive expression across her face, unsure whether to be scared because he had no idea what was going on, but she was a client, an important client, and she had the ability to make things nasty for him if she so wished.

“He’s well,” Daichi replied. “Uh ... how do you know about Suga... I mean Sugawara?”

She laughed, a quiet chuckle prickling in her throat. “Do you two not discuss work?”

Shaking his head, Daichi allowed himself to relax – just a little. “Client confidentiality, but also we like to keep certain aspects of our lives separate.”

“That I can understand.”

“Oh!” A conversation floated back to him. “Is Suga handling your advertising account?”

“Mmm, I was invited to one of these potential client functions run by his company, and this –” she winked,  “-rather charming copywriter, started chatting to me. He told me he was unfortunately leaving, and then showed me the reason why. Mr Sawamura, you could have knocked me down with a breath of air when I saw your picture in his wallet.”

“I-I didn’t mean to deceive you that day in the diner,” he muttered.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. I see a good-looking guy like you with a pregnant girl, and she tells me you’re the father, I’m gonna assume you’re together, despite everything I’d heard.”

“Uh ... what have you heard?”

“Not much. Your firm aren’t big on gossip, but someone mentioned you never brought a partner to company events, and a few looks were exchanged. They must think a lot of you. No one was willing to dish any dirt.” The lift stopped, and with a smirk, she patted him on the arm before stepping out into the atrium. “ Now, shouldn’t you be getting along to the hospital to pick up that baby of yours?”

“Yes.” He swallowed, then grinned at her. “Thank you, Ms van Meyer. Thank you for understanding.”

“Hey, I’m a mom, and I’m also a damn good businesswoman who only wants to employ the best. Oh, one thing ...”

“Yes, anything.”

“Call me Grace.”

“I’m Daichi,” he replied, still smiling. “Sawamura Daichi.”

“I look forward to doing more business with both you and Sugawara,” she said, waving him off. But just as she reached the door, she turned her head back, saying, “Send me a picture of your daughter, Daichi. If she’s as cute as either of you, she might become our poster girl.”

 

***

“Your mom needs to stop fussing!” Michimiya hissed. “She won’t even let me get a drink.”

“She wants to take care of you.” Suga grinned. “Come on, isn’t it nice to be pampered for a while?”

“Not really,” she murmured, and moodily stuck out her lower lip. “She’s not going to let me leave for a walk, is she?”

Daichi looked at her from across the room. “Probably not. Sug can get you anything you want, though.”

“Why me?” Suga protested.

“Uh, hands full,” Daichi said, and smiled down at the tiny bundle in his arms. “Tell him what you want, Mich.”

“Nothing.”  She sighed, exhaling so hard that several strands of her hair flipped up in the air. “Look, guys, I need to talk to you.” Her eyes flicked to the door, she licked her lips. “Where’s your mom, Suga?”

“Cleaning. Yeah, I can hear her in the kitchen.” He frowned, and leant towards her. “What’s up?”

“Um ... I’m ... leaving,” she said, chewing the side of her mouth.

“We’ve told you about this,” Suga said sternly. “Your apartment’s fine, and you need to rest. When the midwife discharges you, then yes, you can go back, but for now, Yui, please let us take care of you.”

She forced out a breath. “I don’t mean leaving here,” she said and closed her eyes. “And I’ll wait until the midwife says I’m okay, but-”

Daichi stared at her, then at Suga. “Micchan, what are you trying to say?”

She smiled, smiled at all three of them, but there were tears flooding her eyes, and Suga felt – not for the first time – how unfair this had been on her. Because, when they’d started on this road, none of them had paid any attention to _her_ feelings.

“That job I was telling you about, Suga,” she muttered. “It’s based in Nagoya, and ... um ... I’ve decided it’s best if I move there. At least for a while.”

The only sound for the next minute and a half was the baby. Suga gazed at Daichi, and knew their expressions matched. Sadness, aching sadness, but not for them, for her and the sorrow in her voice.

“Oh, Yui, no,” Suga whispered.

“Why?” Daichi said at the same time.

She sniffed and straightened her t-shirt as she got to her feet. “It’s not forever,” she said, her voice thick, “but I have to, guys.”

“No, no you don’t,” Suga pleaded. “You can stay here. We can’t-”

“Suga, stop!” she cried. “You have to see that I can’t stay not now, and I’m being honest here, if I hadn’t had the baby, I wouldn’t be hesitating over this. It’s an amazing opportunity. They want me to be one of their lead illustrators.”

“But you could work from here, surely?” Daichi chipped in, quietly so he didn’t wake their girl.

“Yes, I could, but they’d rather I was on hand,” she said, adding quietly, “Throughout the pregnancy, I just kind of cut myself out of the equation, so I never thought this would be so hard.” Raising a hand, she silenced Daichi before he could speak.  “At one point, I convinced myself that the IVF in San Francisco had worked, and she wasn’t the result of _that_ night. You were right, that _would_ have been easier. But then, she would still have been growing inside me, and I could feel her all the time. I need to leave because if I don’t, I’m not sure I’ll be strong enough to ever go, and that little girl doesn’t need the complications and the mess that me being around would cause.”

Walking across to the window, Michimiya peered through the curtain, watching the scene as the Tokyo afternoon played out before them all. “Gods, I would kill for a burger right now.”

“Don’t change the subject!” howled Suga. “When are you planning to go?”

“Sorry,” she said, and turned back to them. “I’m leaving at the end of January, so I’ll be around until then. Maybe we can spend some time together, and you can _both_ help me pack.”

“Micchan, please rethink this. We can work something out.”

“Stop it, Dai,” she whispered, and then she smiled, the effect not rendering her happy in the slightest but much sadder. “I want you to know that if it wasn’t the pair of you, I’d never leave her. But, you’re going to be fantastic parents, and I can’t imagine a better and brighter future for your daughter.”

 “Your daughter, too, Yui.”

“Nah, she’s all you, Suga, with some Sawa-chan attitude that probably came from the yelling as she entered the world.”

And then she laughed a little and Suga knew she was remembering the birth and the pair of them screaming when she’d crushed their hands.  “Right.” She rubbed her eyes. “Who’s getting me this burger?”

“Suga will.”Daichi smiled at her. “Like I said, my hands are full.”

“I could take her,” Suga said innocently. But he knew he had no chance, and watching Daichi now, holding their girl close inside his open shirt, skin to skin, he wondered if he would ever prise them apart.

“It’s my turn,” Daichi growled.

“Hey, don’t fight over ... uh ... what _are_ you going to call her?”

“Thought you didn’t want to know until tomorrow.”

“Hmm.” She screwed up her nose. “I’ve changed my mind. And I want the right of veto in case you call her Volleyball.”

“Guess Karasuno’s out the question, then,” Suga teased.

She raised her eyebrows, leaving them both in no doubt what she thought of the suggestion. “Tell me before I punch you both.”

“We’ve decided on ... Emi,” Suga announced.

“Beautiful blessing,” Daichi explained. “Because that’s what she is, and it’s a blessing we never thought we’d be lucky enough to receive.”

And then, ever so carefully, he stood up, and with the blanket still around him, he stepped towards Michimiya, kissing her softly on the cheek. “Will you hold her now?”

As if there’d never been any doubt, she held out her arms and accepted their most precious bundle. She sat back on the sofa, flanked by Suga and Daichi.

“Hey, Emi,” she cooed, and dropped the faintest of kisses on her temple. “I was your mommy...  for a while.” A tear dropped from her lashes and onto the baby’s face, but Emi didn’t stir. Michimiya traced the shape of her brows, her nose and the fine bow of her lip.  “And I love you so much that I’ve given you not one but two daddies, and they’re going to love you more than anyone else ever will.” She kissed her again. “And I won’t ever let you forget that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that. I did a little bit of research before writing this, and because I tend to like things to be moderately realistic, I decided this was probably the only way the pair of them could raise a child together. Gay couples in Japan are not allowed to marry or adopt, and surrogacy is illegal, so ... one of them being the biological father was all that was left. 
> 
> There's a long road ahead of them, and I would love to revisit this part of their life maybe a few years later. And I want to write more of Micchan, who became very important to me. :(
> 
> This was written for Noemi (thewindraiser) for her birthday, so when I discovered the name Emi meant what I wanted their child's name to mean, it became the only option. 
> 
> Lastly, Emi Sugawara is going to be a wilful little girl - Mwahahahahahahahahaha - Have fun, guys.


End file.
